


HEARTBREAKER

by sparkyCSI (Lexi_the_dragon_muse)



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14919174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexi_the_dragon_muse/pseuds/sparkyCSI
Summary: What happens when Lindsay finds out that Danny has been cheating? If you're looking for fluff, you might not want to read this, but otherwise, R&R please!





	1. before he cheats

**Author's Note:**

> : Okay. So this is NOT a happy story, so if you are looking for DL fluff, you might want to go check out my other stories, Inflaming the Senses or Sadeness. This is a gift to one of my friends who just went through this with her boyfriend of a year. Needless to say, they are no longer together and she is still in shock over the whole ordeal. No flames because of the angst that I cause DL, please, but reviews are much appreciated. I have this planned for 3 chapters and please be aware of the T rating, as this does address sex and cheating and I do drop the F-bomb a couple of times. Happy reading!

**Chapter 1.  Before He Cheats**

 

Lindsay sighed as she walked out of the lab.  _Finally, vacation,_ she thought.  She had worked fourteen days straight, with an average of twelve hours per day and as a result she was exhausted. 

 

As she walked into her apartment she cringed at the state of it.  While she hadn’t been spending all her free time with Danny because of the shifts, she hadn’t had time to clean at all.  As a result, her apartment was covered lightly with dust and she badly needed to do laundry.  She shook her head as she ignored the mess exactly like she’d been doing for the last week and walked straight into the bathroom to draw a bath.  As she poured in her favorite bubble bath, she felt the beginnings of an idea forming.

 

_You know, Danny and I have barely had time to say hello the last couple of weeks.  I know for a fact that after he gets done with the early shift tomorrow, he’s off for two days._   She grinned wickedly at her thought.  _Maybe we can make up for lost time.  I can surprise him with dinner and dessert; with dessert being me, of course._

 

She sank into the hot water, mentally planning what she needed to do to prepare.  She decided to go shopping in the morning, after getting dressed in her sexiest lingerie underneath her street clothes.

 

On that happy thought, she climbed into bed, intent on sleeping for the next twelve hours.

 

**\----------------------------------**

 

When she awoke the next morning, Lindsay was feeling refreshed, but had a niggle of concern in the back of her mind.  _Is this the right thing to do,_ she wondered.  _We haven’t really seen each other recently, and ever since Ruben died, he’s been pulling away from me._   She sighed as her hands faltered with the bag she was packing before shaking her head.  _I’m just overanalyzing things.  That’s what got me into trouble in the first place.  If I hadn’t overanalyzed when the trial was coming up, I would have let him in and it would have made things for us so much easier._  

 

Coming to her decision, she left her apartment early to complete her errands before heading to his apartment.

 

After stopping at the store, she carefully juggled the grocery bag and her keys, trying to unlock the door without dropping anything.  Finally, she got the door opened and looked around the living room in fascination.  Danny was one of the biggest neat freaks she’d ever met and to see his apartment looking similar to her own threw her.

 

_I guess he’s been as busy as I have, but I know he’s had at least a couple of days these past two weeks._   An uneasy feeling began to reside in her stomach, but she shook it off. _Oh, never mind.  I’ll just clean up before I start cooking,_ she said as she glanced at the clock and realized that she still had at least four hours until he got home.

 

Quickly, she stored the groceries in his kitchen and then began to methodically clean the apartment, something that soothed her.  Within an hour, the kitchen and living room were back in their normally spotless conditions and she shook her head as she walked into the bedroom.

 

She crinkled her nose in disgust when she looked around at the disarray that his bedroom was in.  She glanced at the bed and made a face when she realized that the sheets on the bed were the ones that had been on it the last time that she was over.  Sticking out her tongue, she walked back out into the hall and the linen closet to grab fresh sheets. 

 

Walking back into the room, she set the sheets on the dresser and stripped the comforter off so she could through it into the wash.  _Yuck, I am so not getting into the bed until the sheets are clean!_   She then pulled off the flat sheet and furrowed her brows when she saw the unmistakably—at least to the experienced eyes of a CSI—fresh signs of sex.  Her heart leapt into her throat until she thought, _he was probably just giving himself a helping hand.  Lord knows I’ve done that often enough in the last two weeks!_ Gingerly, she placed the sheets in a pile on the floor before replacing them with the new sheets she had grabbed.

 

That done, she hurriedly threw the sheets into the washer and set it to run.  Then she proceeded to put everything else in the room up.  Realizing that her pile of trash was growing unmanageable, she walked into the bathroom to grab the trash can from there.  When she looked down at the container, her blood ran cold and her eyes couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  A used condom. 

 

Even Lindsay’s logical side couldn’t rationalize that away.  Feeling ice settle in her stomach, she leaned over to the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a rubber glove.  Meticulously, she went through the trash and by the time she was done, she was shaking uncontrollably.  There were eleven condoms in all; most of them looked to have been used recently. 

 

Shaking her head as tears welled up in her eyes, she began to sob uncontrollably.  After about ten minutes, the tears finally slowed, but as she looked around in disbelief, the evidence was clear to her.  A slow rage began to burn within her, melting the ice of shock.  She drew a deep breath, stood up and walked to the kitchen.  Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, she drank it quickly, wanting the oblivion to consume her.  But the alcohol only stoked the simmering rage.

 

Wiping the last of her tears away, she strode back into the bathroom and gathered in incriminating trash.  She carefully set all of the evidence out on the coffee table, the feeling of anger rising.  After she had it all carefully place (and had drunk another beer), she walked back into the bedroom. 

 

Seeing the keys to his motorcycle, she grabbed them with a wicked gleam of revenge coming into her mind.  She walked back into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and ran some water into it from the tap.  Then she dropped the keys into the water and made her way to the freezer, where she put it in.  _Let’s see him try to drive his precious bike any time soon,_ she thought with glee.  Then she went back into the room and began to ransack it, throwing the mattress across the room, emptying the closet and the dresser of every single piece of clothing that he owned. 

 

She then went to his nightstand, where a picture of them in Montana ridiculed her former sense of happiness.  She grabbed the Louisville Slugger from the wall and swung with the precision of Babe Ruth, shattering the glass and launching the picture into the left hand wall of the room.  She felt some of her rage ease at the destructive act and turned, bat in hand, and walked back to the living room.

 

On her way back, she grabbed the two boxes of unopened condoms from the bathroom and put them down on the table, trying to decide her next move.  She grabbed another beer from the fridge and sat, tremors still coursing through her body.  As she finished the beer, she took a couple of the unopened condoms from the boxes and opened them, so she could place each one on the neck of the beer bottle.

 

She sat there for the next four hours, alternating between mind numbing despair and killing rage, her collection of beer bottles growing.  With a sick sense of pleasure, she took out her cell phone and documented the evidence, gleefully emailing them to herself at work.  When she heard the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock, she straightened up, placing the bat in her lap as she took a swig of beer.

 

Danny opened the door, startled to see Lindsay sitting on the couch.  As he glanced at her, beer in hand, he said cautiously, “Montana?  Why do you have a baseball bat in your lap?”

 

Lindsay felt flabbergasted.  _Of everything that I have here, he notices the bat?!_   She just glanced down at the coffee table, not trusting herself to speak just yet.

 

Danny followed her gaze and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.  _Shit!  How the hell did she find out?  Ah, hell, I’m fucked._   He stood there for ten minutes, searching for the words to ease her anger and coming up empty.

 

Finally he walked over cautiously, prepared to leap out of the way if she choose to use the semi lethal bat in her hands, and sat on the other end of the couch.  He looked at her, hating himself for seeing the distrust and fury directed at him in her once loving eyes.

 

“Who and how long?” her deadly voice lanced across the silence.

 

Danny turned to tell her that it didn’t matter, he had ended things, but with the way she was playing with the bat, decided to come clean.  “A week.”

 

Lindsay ground her teeth together, trying to maintain her calm, but realizing that she had missed all the signs.  _I feel so stupid._   She shook her head.  “Who?” she asked, her voice without trace of emotion.

 

Danny ran his hand across the back of his neck nervously before dropping his head and confessing, “Rikki.”

 

“Why?” Lindsay asked, her voice cracking and reflecting the hurt and confusion she was feeling.

 

“Because she was there.  That’s all it was, Linds.  Two people trying to make sense of a tragedy,” he returned, trying to rationalize his decision.

 

Lindsay’s eyes lit up with renewed fury.  “You had to make sense of it eleven fucking times, Danny!” she shouted.  “You ignored me.  I kept asking you if you wanted to talk, but _no_ , Mr. Macho decided that the best way to deal with a tragedy is to fuck the mother of the child you feel responsible for killing?  How could you?”  She saw him open his mouth to retort and held up her hand.  “Wait, I don’t think I want to know the answer to that.”

 

She got up off the couch and swung the bat at the coffee table, breaking all the bottles in one swing before dropping the bat to the floor.  “I don’t know who the hell you are anymore.  We’re through.  I’ll ask Mac tomorrow for a transfer to the night shift because I _never_ want to see you again.”

 

Danny sat there in shock as she stalked out the door, slamming it closed behind her.


	2. Going Under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay. So this is NOT a happy story, so if you are looking for DL fluff, you might want to go check out my other stories, Inflaming the Senses or Sadeness. I am so happy with the response to the first chapter. This story has taken on a life of its own and it might be more than the original 3 chapters that I had planned. And since I forgot to do it in the chapter before, the chapter title for 1 (Before He Cheats) belongs to Carrie Underwood and this chapter title belongs to Evanescence. Happy reading!

** Chapter 2.Going Under **

 

Danny sat for a long time on the couch after the door slammed behind Lindsay.  _What have I done,_ he thought miserably.  He thought back to the previous two months since Ruben had been killed.  He knew intellectually that Lindsay was right.  She had been there for him. Had offered to let him talk to her, even when she had admitted that she wasn’t good at that sort of thing.  She freely admitted that ever since her friends had been killed she had cut herself off from the world, and had no clue how to deal with emotion.

 

He understood that now, even though at the time it had seemed like a slap in the face.  He remembered thinking that he had been there for her, why couldn’t she be there for him?  Then Rikki came over, crying and distraught.  He had done the natural thing for him; he had taken her in his arms to give her the comfort that he was unable to feel.

 

He didn’t remember who kissed who first, but he had buried his pain in her.  The next morning he had awoken, feeling guilty at first, but then he rationalized his thoughts after that.  Lindsay hadn’t been there, so who was he to deny himself relief from his pain, pain she couldn’t possibly understand.

 

Now he realized how selfish he was being.  _I just destroyed the best thing going in my life,_ he though morosely.  He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around at the destruction she had wrought on his apartment.  Broken glass littered the coffee table, along with used and unused condoms.  Sighing he got up and walked into the bedroom, not surprised to see that it looked like a hurricane had blown through.  _Category Five,_ he thought with a shake of his had.  _And I deserved that and so much more._

 

He was hunting around for a clean shirt to wear when he heard the knock on the door.  His heart was pounding in his chest as hope began to flutter.  He opened the door, “Lindsay, I’m sorry…” but trailed off when he saw Rikki standing there instead. 

 

“Hi, Danny,” she said in a soft voice.

 

“Rikki, hi.  Do you want to come in?” he asked her in confusion.

 

She shook her head.  “No, I just came by to give you some sugar, even though I know that you didn’t ask for it and to...to tell you that I’m leaving.  Moving away from the city.”

 

Danny felt his heart plummet.  “Why?” he asked, not knowing if he wanted to hear the answer.

 

She sighed.  “I had no right to take advantage of you and I’m sorry.  But I need a fresh start.  Danny, you’re a sweet man,” she said as she handed him the sugar, “but, I need to get away from here. I’m sorry.”

 

Danny watched, depression settling over him as she walked back to her apartment.  Sighing in defeat, he headed back inside and to his kitchen island.  He picked up his cell phone and dialed the familiar number.  “Lindsay, it’s Danny.  Please pick up.  Look I’m sorry.  I’m sorry that I pushed you away and I was wrong to try to justify what I did.  Please, Montana, please call me back,” he said, close to the tears that he had been unable to shed for weeks, ever since Ruben’s funeral.

 

He waited thirty minutes, but no call back, so he called her again, sent her text messages and then finally fell asleep on his couch, the consequences of his actions a miasma stain on his soul.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Lindsay walked out of the apartment, broken hearted, no tears left to cry.  She walked aimlessly around the city, in the rain trying to come to terms with what she had found out.  She felt her cell phone ring and looked at the caller ID, barely resisting the urge to hurl the phone into the water filled gutter.  Quickly she rejected the call, then the next call and the third.  Deleted the text messages unread.  _Does he not understand the fact that I_ never _want to see him again?_

 

Finally, she turned her phone off, grateful for the respite.  When she looked up, she smiled ironically.  Her subconscious was obviously thinking for her.  She was in front of _Cactus_ , a country bar that she had found her first week in the city.  It was owned by Lou, a good ole boy from Wyoming, so they got along fairly well.  Whenever she was feeling homesick, she inevitably ended up there.

 

She smiled as she walked in and greeted Lou, who was bartending that night, with a subdued, “Hey.”

 

“Lindsay girl, you all right?” the heavy set balding man said.

 

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly.  “Just found out my boyfriend’s been cheatin’ on me.  Give me a shot of Jack and Lou, leave the bottle.”

 

Lou nodded and like all bartenders knew when his patrons needed to talk and when they needed to be left alone.  Lindsay was in the left alone category at this moment.  “If you need anything, just holler,” he told her.

 

Lindsay nodded as she took three shots of jack consecutively and then sipped on a fourth.  She thought back over to her time in the city.  So much had happened, both good and bad.  Up until today, Danny was at the top of the list of good, but he proved to her that you could never trust anyone.  She thought back to her life in Bozeman, knowing that she had a loving family and a job to go back to if she wanted.  _And I want to,_ she thought.  _I can’t believe he betrayed me like that.  Even if we work different shifts, we are bound to run into each other occasionally.  Can I handle that?_

 

Lindsay kept thinking along that point as she made her way through the bottle of Jack Daniels.  She took out her phone, and turned it back on, trying to decide on whether or not to call her dad.  He knew that if she said the word, he be on a plane to New York to pick her up in a heartbeat; she also knew that he would give her the inevitable lecture on what did she expect on dating a “city boy” as he called them. 

 

That was one thing that she had argued with him about when she had first left.  He had told her that all city boys were bad news, but she thought she had proved him wrong when Danny had flown out to Montana to be with her during the trial.  _I let him meet my parents for Christ’s sake!  They had liked him.  They had liked the fact that he had dropped his own life to support me.  Even Dad was unbending enough to cautiously tell me that he approved of my choice.  Now what?  Do I go home and tell dad, sorry you were right, I was wrong._ She shook her head at the thought.  _I’d never hear the end of it._

 

Feeling the tears coming back, she quickly took another couple of shots, the alcohol keeping her demons at bay.  She stared down at the bar, unsure of what to do for the first time since her friends had been killed.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Mac sat in his office on the thirty-fifth floor, puzzling over what he was to do about the killer which had shut down transportation in the city.  He studied, with care, the photographs of the carvings on the backs of the necks of the victims.  For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what they meant.  “L2729.  What meaning do you have for the killer?  Is it a house number, a cell number?  What is it?”

 

He paused wearily, knowing that he needed to go home, but his sense of duty keeping him in his office.  He had sent the rest of the team home hours before, both Lindsay and Danny for some much needed time off since they had both worked pretty much two weeks straight.  He longed to take the time as well, but with how hard the chief and mayor were coming down on him, he knew that he couldn’t.

 

Stella and Flack had been the last to leave, within moments of each other around midnight.  He looked at his clock, eyes blurry from the lack of sleep since they had found the second body.  It read 2:35 a.m.  Sighing in defeat, he decided to go home to sleep for a few hours, then start fresh in the morning.

 

\----------------------------------

 

“Lindsay girl, you really should head out.  Let me get Max to get you a cab,” Lou said as he took the empty bottle of whiskey away from her.

 

Lindsay shook her head, something telling her that a cab was not a good idea.  “No.  I’ll be alright,” she slurred.

 

Lou smiled, amazed at her capacity to hold her liquor.  Most men he knew couldn’t drink damn near a bottle of whiskey and still be conscious, but here she was insisting that she was fine.  “Lindsay, seriously, you are in no condition to drive or walk.”

 

“My ‘partment is just two blocks over.  I’ll be fine, Lou,” she insisted as she tried to stand.

 

Luckily, Lou had been prepared for her reaction and caught her before she hit the floor.  Shaking his head, he motioned for Max to come and support her, while he called a cab.  It wasn’t until after she left, that he noticed her phone sitting on the bar.  _Damn.  I’ll get it back to her tomorrow._

 

\----------------------------------

 

Mac had just gone to sleep when his phone rang.  “Taylor,” he answered it gruffly, his body protesting at the lack of sleep.  “Another body?  All right, I’ll be there in thirty.”

 

He dressed quickly and grabbed his keys from the table by the door, taking note of the time, 4:14 a.m.  Shaking his head, he made his way to the crime scene.

 

When he got there, he noticed the looks on the night shift’s faces.  “What?  What’s wrong?” he asked, his gut telling him that something had happened.

 

In response, they just gestured to the prone body of a young woman that had been pulled from a fountain.  He felt the blood run out of his face and his hand reached for his phone.  “Flack, It’s Mac.  Listen…”

 

\----------------------------------

 

Danny awoke to someone pounding on the door.  “Messer!  Damn it, open your door!”

 

“All right, all right, I’m comin’,” he said wearily as he opened the door to reveal Flack.  “Whadda want, Flack.”

 

Flack pushed his way into the door.  “Jesus, what the hell happened in here!” he exclaimed as he saw the destruction.

 

“Nothing man.  What’s up?” Danny evaded him.

 

Flack turned to his best friend, not knowing how to break the news to him.  Finally, he sighed.  “Cabbie killer has struck again.”

 

Danny shrugged.  “And…”

 

“You’d better sit down, man,” he said softly.

 

“What are you talking about, Don?” Danny asked, the stress of the day still overwhelming him.

 

“Dan, sit down,” Flack said, pushing the sleepy man towards the couch.  Once Danny was seated he continued.  “It’s Lindsay, man.”

 

Danny’s brain still wasn’t moving at full speed.  “Look, I know that I pissed her off, but why did she come whining to you!” he retorted.

 

Flack shook his head.  “She didn’t Danny.  She’s the cabbie killer’s latest victim.”

 

Danny just stared at him in shock, before realizing that Lindsay must be playing a joke on him.  “Ha ha, Flack.  Tell Montana that you told me and I don’t care what she does to get back at me, but I ain’t falling for that.”

 

“Dan, this isn’t a joke.  I just got done watching them bring her body into the morgue.”

 

Danny looked up.  He played poker with Flack and knew every single one of his tells.  He could tell by his expression that this wasn’t a joke.  “Oh, God.  What have I done?” he cried as he broke apart.

 


	3. Hotel California

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So this is NOT a happy story, so if you are looking for DL fluff, you might want to go check out my other stories, Inflaming the Senses or Sadeness. I don’t own the song title, that belongs to The Eagles. Happy reading!

** Chapter 3.Hotel California **

 

When Sid walked into the morgue, he was uncharacteristically somber.  He saw Mac waiting for him by a sheet covered body and sighed.  “Mac?  Is it true?  Was Lindsay the latest victim of the cabbie killer, really…” he trailed off unable to complete his sentence.

 

Mac just nodded, the only sign of emotion on his face, a muscle twitching in his jaw.  “This is your only priority, Sid.  You are to work no other case.”

 

Sid nodded his agreement.  “Of course,” he said as he lifted the sheet covering the body.  “Oh, Ms. Monroe.  What happened to you?” he muttered softly, still in shock over seeing her peaceful looking body.  She looked as if she was just asleep.

 

Mac stayed as he did the preliminary exam, combing out her hair and scraping underneath her fingernails for some hope that she had fought back.  Silently Sid worked, handing the evidence to Mac as he finished with it.  As Sid began to remove her clothes, Mac turned and stalked out, unable to continue watching the autopsy.  _Lindsay, why were you so careless?_

 

When he arrived in his office, after dropping the evidence in Trace, he found Stella, Hawkes and Adam waiting for him, stunned expressions on all their faces.  Before they could speak he held up his hand.  “Yes, it’s true.  Lindsay is dead,” he reported, rage evident in his voice.  “I don’t care what you were working on before, every other case falls by the wayside.  No one sleeps until we find this bastard!” he snarled.

 

Adam jumped at bit at the venom evident in Mac’s voice, but nodded immediately.  He turned and walked out of the office, intent on processing the evidence that had been collected from the scene.

 

“I’ll process all the evidence from Sid, Mac,” Hawkes said as he turned to leave, an expression of sadness on his face.

 

Stella stayed behind and put her hand on Mac’s arm in comfort.  “This isn’t your fault, Mac.  We’re going to get this guy,” she said with conviction.  She sighed before asking the question that she didn’t want to, “Does Danny know?”

 

Mac sighed.  “I sent Flack over there.  With as close as the two of them were, I didn’t want him to find out over the phone,” he admitted.  He had known about the relationship between the two, but had turned a blind eye since it hadn’t affected them in the lab.

 

Stella smiled softly.  “You always think of everything, Mac,” she murmured before returning to the lab to don her lab coat so she could do her part to catch the killer.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Flack watched as Danny fell apart.  He was openly crying and Flack had no clue how to comfort him.  “Danny, this is not your fault,” he began, trying to convince his friend of that.

 

Danny just shook his head, his tears coming to an end as he sat on the couch, head between his hands.  He didn’t say anything, the guilt eating him up, even when Flack sat next to him, offering silent comfort.

 

 _God.  This is all my fault,_ he thought.  _I should have taken out the trash, but how was I to know that she could snoop around my apartment!_   Danny sat there for another couple of minutes for leaping to his feet to grab a shirt from his room.  “I’m going to find that bastard,” he snarled, anger finally overriding the shock.

 

Flack just shook his head, not knowing if Mac would allow him even in the lab, but he was determined to make sure that his friend didn’t do anything stupid.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Sid watched as Mac stalked out of the room, not surprised with the reaction.  He carefully began to remove Lindsay clothes, a simple pair of jeans and sweater.  He was shocked to find a racy peignoir set underneath the casual clothes and his eyebrows shot up.  Shaking his head, he removed the red lingerie and set it aside. 

 

He ran a variety of tests, from drawing her blood for analysis to running a rape kit—which thankfully came back negative—before he decided he had put off the inevitable as long as he could.

 

With regret in his heart, he picked up the shiny scalpel from the tray next to him and began the Y-incision.  When done with the incision, he surveyed her internal organs, checking for any unusual damage.  Seeing none, other than the damage to her lungs caused by the carbon monoxide that she had inhaled, he carefully removed her stomach, to extract the contents.

 

As he cut the organ up, he caught the overpowering smell of alcohol.  He emptied the contents into a bowl and took a long whiff.  _Whiskey,_ he thought as he identified the liquid.  Shaking his head, he didn’t like the picture that was coming to his mind, but he was determined to keep his emotions in check.  Sighing in defeat, he paged Mac to fill him in on his suppositions. 

 

Within moments, Mac and Hawkes were walking somberly into the cold room.  “What do you have, Sid?” Mac asked bluntly.

 

Sid sighed as he snapped his glasses back into place.  “Well,” he began.  “She was dressed to impress underneath her street clothes.  A nice red peignoir, but I didn’t find any sigh of rape.”  Mac breathed a sigh of relief as Sid pulled over the container with her stomach contents.  “I found no food in her stomach, but a whole lot whiskey.”

 

Hawkes nodded.  “I ran a blood alcohol level test and Mac, it was 0.3.  Three times the legal limit.”

 

Mac’s face drained of blood.

 

“That explains the lack of defensive wounds,” Sid said.  “That was the curious thing that baffled me.  All the rest of the victims had some sort of defensive wounds.”

 

Mac nodded his head, not knowing what to think.  “But the questions are, why was she so drunk and how did she get there?”

 

“I can answer one of those questions for you,” Flack said from the doorway.

 

Hawkes and Mac raised their heads in surprise.

 

Flack walked in, rubbing his eyes wearily.  “Danny and her had a fight.  I don’t know about what, but he’s pretty shaken up.  Mac, he wants to work the case.”

 

Mac shook his head.  “Not a chance.”

 

“I know, but ya might want to tell him that.  I managed to convince him that he needed to talk to you before touching any of the evidence.”

 

Mac nodded as he turned to leave.  “All right.  I’ll go talk with him to see if he can give me anymore info and then convincing him that he doesn’t need to work this case because he will be too emotionally involved.”

 

Flack turned back to Hawkes and Sid, trying not to look down at his colleague’s body.  “We need to find out where she was drinking.  I saw some beer bottles at Danny’s, but not enough to get here that drunk.”

 

Sid nodded.  “Indeed since her stomach contents contained whiskey.”

 

“I’m going to go run her credit cards, see if I can find out where she was drinking.  Hawkes, did you find anything off of her cell phone?”

 

Hawkes furrowed his brow.  “We didn’t recover her cell phone.”

 

Flack felt a ray of hope enter his body.  “Maybe it got left in the killer’s cab,” he said, turning with Hawkes to rush out of the morgue and into the lab.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Flack and Hawkes ran back into the lab and pulled Adam into the audio/visual lab.  “Adam,” Hawkes began, his voice betraying his hope, “I need you to see if you can triangulate Lindsay’s phone.”

 

Adam looked at him, a light coming to his eyes.  “Since it wasn’t on her, maybe it’s with the killer,” he said as his fingers flew over the keyboard.  Within seconds, the results were up.  “It’s here.”

 

“Can you tell me where that is?” Flack asked him, taking out his memo pad.

 

Adam nodded as he searched the address.  “It’s a bar called _Cactus._ ”

 

Both Hawkes and Flack felt a little disappointment at his statement, but Flack nodded anyway.  “Okay.  Hawkes, wanna come along?”

 

Hawkes nodded as he grabbed his kit.  “Did you have to ask?  Of course, but give me a moment to fill Mac in.”

 

Flack nodded.  “I’ll get the car.”

 

\----------------------------------

 

Mac walked into the break room to see Danny standing there.  “Danny?  What are you doing here?”

 

Danny turned around and looked at his boss.  “I’m gonna find this killer, Mac,” he stated simply.

 

Mac just shook his head.  “I can’t have that, Danny.  You and Lindsay were involved in a personal relationship.  I can’t allow you to work the case and compromise the evidence.  I want this guy too much to do that.”

 

Danny looked at him; he’d expected the argument.  “But don’t I have a greater incentive to find this guy, Mac?  I’ll work twice as hard to catch him, knowing that he is the one that killed Lindsay.”

 

Mac smiled before patting Danny on the shoulder.  “I know you would, but the only thing that you can do to help is to tell me when you saw Lindsay last.”

 

Danny rubbed the back of his neck seeing the stubborn glare in Mac’s eyes.  Sighing, he settled down in a chair by the table.  “I saw her around six o’clock last night.  We had a fight and she stormed out of my apartment.  I tried calling her all night, but she never picked up the phone.”

 

Mac looked at Danny, sensing there was more than what the younger man was telling him.  “Have you ever fought like that before?” he probed cautiously.

 

Danny shook his head.  “No, I made a stupid mistake and…” Danny trailed off, not wanting to voice his guilt.

 

Mac nodded sympathetically.  “You think that if you hadn’t have fought, then she would still be alive.  While that may be true in the strictest sense of the situation, you can’t blame yourself, Danny.  This is not your fault,” he said forcefully.

 

Danny shook his head, knowing that it wasn’t true, but still not wanting to admit to himself that he sent them down this path when he sought comfort and reassurance in Rikki’s arms.  He got up and began pacing around the small room, trying to keep his mind from thinking those thoughts, knowing that he needed to keep himself occupied.  “I’ve gotta do something, Mac.”

 

Mac thought for a moment, not wanting to let the younger man out of his sight, so that he could prevent him from doing something monumentally stupid.  “Look, we’re pushing all of our other cases back.  Why don’t you process the evidence on them, so that you can still hear the news as we get it, but it’ll give you something to do?”

 

Danny nodded reluctantly.  “All right.”

 

Mac smiled and was beginning to walk back to his office when he saw Hawkes rushing towards him.  He raised an eyebrow.  “I trust that you have news?”

 

Hawkes nodded.  “So you know that Lindsay had drunk enough to drop Godzilla, but she didn’t have her cell phone.  She always carried her cell phone in case she got called in.  So, we had Adam triangulate the area, hoping that it might still be in the cab, and found out that her cell phone is at a bar called _Cactus_.  Flack and I are headed over there right now to check it out and see if we can map out a timeline.”

 

Mac nodded.  “Good.  Danny said that she left his apartment around six last night.  They had a fight and she was upset.  Let’s see if we can track where she went from his place.”

 

“On it,” Hawkes said as he made his way to the elevator to meet Flack in the motor pool.

 


	4. . Staring down the Barrel of a .45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : Okay. So this is NOT a happy story, so if you are looking for DL fluff, you might want to go check out my other stories, Inflaming the Senses or Sadeness. I don’t own the song title, that comes from the song: .45 by Shinedown. Happy reading!

** Chapter 4. Staring down the Barrel of a .45 **

 

Stella finished processing all the evidence from the scene, unhappily since what little evidence that was recovered had been compromised by the water that Lindsay had been immersed in.  She played with a medallion that had been found, but was unable to identify it.  Sighing in defeat, she walked into the office that she and Lindsay had shared, hoping for a stroke of inspiration.

 

She sat down at her desk, wondering what exactly had caused the younger woman to go out drinking, to drink enough to put anyone in a stupor and then get in a cab when she was intimately familiar with the cabbie killer case.  _I don’t think it’s a simple as a fight with Danny,_ she thought.  _Something else must have happened._

 

After sitting there for a few minutes, she decided to see if she could get into Lindsay’s computer, praying that something on there would shed some light on the final few hours of the woman’s life.  Keeping her fingers crossed, she typed in Lindsay’s user name and then guessed at the password.  Smiling as the computer booted up, she shook her head.  _Come on, Lindsay.  Montana?  That was way too easy._

 

Navigating to the email account, she discovered that Lindsay had emailed herself pictures from her phone the previous night.  Hoping that they were pictures of the killer, she pulled up the JPEG files, only to discover that the pictures looked as if they were taken inside of an apartment.  She furrowed her brow, knowing that it was not Lindsay’s apartment, and then when she saw the pool table, she knew that it was Danny’s.  Shaking her head, she burned the files onto a disc to take to the A/V lab, so that she could enlarge the pictures to pick up the details.

 

Grimly she walked into the lab, where Adam was trying to get photos from traffic cameras.  He had his iPod plugged in, but was not dancing to the music as he normally did.  He jumped as Stella lightly touched him on the shoulder, turning around with a pensive look on his face.

 

Stella nodded as he took the ear bud out of his ear.  “Adam, I have to photographs that need to be enhanced.”

 

Adam looked at her.  “I’m supposed to be searching the traffic cameras for any possible pictures of cabs,” he told her uncertainly.

 

She shook her head.  “I know.  This is for Lindsay’s case.  I found some photographs that she emailed herself from her phone last night and I’m hoping that they contain a clue to what had happened.”

 

Adam nodded.  “Okay,” he said as she handed him the disc.  He quickly uploaded all the pictures and displayed them on the large monitor in the back of the lab, figuring the more privacy that they had the better.  He looked at the pictures, clearly the inside of an extremely messy apartment, but not knowing where.  “Is that from the killer’s apartment?”

 

Stella shook her head.  “No, it’s Danny’s place.  Although, I’ve never seen it this messy before; he’s an admitted neat freak,” she replied, not taking her eyes off of the screen.  “Look on the coffee table, are those condoms?”

 

Adam made a few keystrokes and enhanced that area.  “Yeah and they look like they are used.”

 

Stella just shook her head again as she let her eyes roam over the next set of pictures, which showcased Danny’s bedroom.  “It looks like a tornado hit the bedroom, the mattresses have been thrown across…” she trailed off as she noticed something.  “Adam, enhance the left hand side of the third bedroom picture.  Enlarge it.”

 

Adam complied with her demand and glanced at the screen to see what Stella had seen.  It was a shattered picture frame with a picture of Danny and Lindsay in it.  “Why is that important?”

 

Stella got a steely glint in her eyes, sensing that Danny hadn’t told them the whole truth about the fight and turned to stalk out of the room.  “Thanks, Adam.”

 

Adam just stared at her retreating back, wondering what was important about the picture.

 

\----------------------------------

 

After Hawkes informed Mac of their findings, they slowly made their way through rush hour traffic to _Cactus_ , not knowing what they were going to find.  Each thought for a moment that the bar was the last place anyone saw Lindsay alive, but didn’t want to voice that opinion.

 

As they pulled up to the little hole in the wall, Hawkes looked around.  “This isn’t too far from her apartment,” he stated sadly.

 

Flack nodded.  “I know.  It’s only two blocks over.”  He sighed as they exited the vehicle, a picture of Lindsay tucked securely in Flack breast pocket.  “Why would she take a cab, Hawkes?”

 

Hawkes shrugged.  “Maybe she was just too drunk,” he ventured.  “We know that her blood alcohol was three times the limit.  Maybe she just didn’t have a choice.”

 

Flack thought that over as they walked into the dim building.  He strode purposely to the bar and looked at balding man.  “Were you working last night?” he asked him, all business.

 

Lou looked at the two men, knowing that they were cops from the way they were holding themselves.  “Yeah.  What can I do for you, Detective…” he trailed off.

 

“Flack and this is Dr. Hawkes,” Flack returned, removing the photo from his pocket.  “Did you see this woman here last night?”

 

Lou looked at the picture.  “Sure.  That’s Lindsay.  She’s a regular here.  Is everything all right?  She left her cell phone here and I need to get it back to her.  If you know her, can you return it?”

 

Flack closed his eyes briefly before letting out a deep sigh.  “I know her, but she was murdered last night.”

 

Lou let out a shocked gasp.  “What?!”

 

Hawkes nodded.  “It looks like she was a victim of the cabbie killer.”

 

Lou felt ice drop into his stomach, knowing that if she was, he was responsible for her death.  “Oh God.  I didn’t even think of that when I called her a cab.  She was too drunk to walk home and I didn’t want her getting attacked,” he muttered as tears came to his eyes.

 

Flack felt a wave of rage wash over him.  “You didn’t think?” he snarled savagely.

 

Lou’s head shot up at his tone.  “No, I didn’t.  All I know is that Lindsay drank damn near a bottle of Jack by herself and could barely stand.”

 

Hawkes put a restraining hand on Flack’s arm and interrupted, “Do you know why she drank so much?”

 

Lou sighed.  “She didn’t want to talk, but she said that she had just found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her.  I got busy with other customers and didn’t realize that she had drunk as much as she had.”  He propped his elbows on the bar and rested his head between his hands.  “I should have just had Max walk her home,” he said morosely.

 

“Who’s Max?” Flack snarled.

 

“The bouncer.  He’s not in yet, but I can give you his address.  He’s the one that put her in the cab.”  He pulled a piece of paper towards him.  “Maybe he saw the bastard.”

 

Flack nodded his thanks and accepted the piece of paper, reeling over the information that the man had given her.  _Danny was cheating on Lindsay?  I’m gonna kill Messer the next time I see him,_ he thought savagely.  Sighing he looked at Hawkes, “You up for going to see the bouncer?”

 

Hawkes nodded.  “Let’s go.”

 

\----------------------------------

 

Mac, in the meantime, had been working over every single contact he had, only to come away with no more information he started with.  Finally, he broke down and contacted his step-son, Reed.  He had met with Reed, a confrontation that had ended up in Reed storming off, and now he was sitting at his desk, trying to figure out what to do.

 

His phone rang and he picked it up on the first ring.  “Taylor.”

 

“Mac?  It’s Reed.  Listen, I thought about what you said and I want you to meet me at my apartment.  I’m almost there.”

 

Mac sighed in relief.  “I’m on my way,” he said as he got up and left.

 

Twenty minutes later, he was walking into Reed’s building, only to find his backpack on the floor in front of his apartment.  Sensing that something was wrong, he grabbed a pair of gloves and carefully studied the backpack, seeing residue of some sort on the outside.  Knowing that it was a clue to get to the killer, he carefully scraped the powder into an evidence bag, and with his heart in this throat made his way back to the lab.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Flack and Hawkes made their way up the dilapidated walk up with no small annoyance.  Shrugging to themselves, they finally exited the stairwell on the fourth floor and looked for the appropriate apartment number.  Walking towards it, Flack felt that something was wrong and carefully placed his hand on his gun.  Nodding to Hawkes, he took the lead.

 

When they reached the apartment, the door was slightly ajar.  The two men looked at each other, with Hawkes standing back out of the line of fire.  Flack drew his gun and carefully pointed it in the crack of the door.  “Max?  NYPD.  Are you okay?” he called out, his voice devoid of emotion.  After getting no response, he carefully nudged the door open, automatically scanning for intruders.  “Stay here,” he ordered Hawkes.

 

Hawkes nodded, setting his case on the floor and getting a pair of latex gloves out, while Flack cleared the apartment.  When Flack called out the all clear, he picked up the case and walked in to find a murder scene.  The body of a large man lay facedown on the floor in the living area, the telephone cord wrapped around his neck.  He approached the man and felt for his pulse.  “He’s dead,” he confirmed.  “Can’t be more than a couple of hours, though. The body is still warm.”

 

Flack nodded as he pointed to the carving on the back of his neck.  “Looks like our boy, same marks on the back of the neck.”

 

Hawkes shook his head, “Yeah, but why is this murder different?  The rest of the victims were killed by carbon monoxide poisoning and he was strangled.”

 

Flack shook his head.  “I don’t know, but maybe he wouldn’t willingly get into the cab and I’m willing to bet that he saw the cab driver.  That makes him a witness, a loose end that the killer had to get rid of.”

 

“That makes sense to me,” Hawkes said as he began to process the body and the rest of the scene. 

 

“I’ll call it in and get a uniform over here to baby-sit the body until a coroner can arrive, so once you get all the evidence we can head directly to the lab.”

 

Hawkes nodded, intently studying the scene to make sure that he got all the evidence.  An hour later, the uniform had arrived and both Hawkes and Flack were leaving the scene, sensing that the killer was getting more dangerous.


	5. Du Hast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So this is NOT a happy story, so if you are looking for DL fluff, you might want to go check out my other stories, Inflaming the Senses or Sadeness. I don’t own the song title, that belongs to Rammstein. Happy reading!

** Chapter 5.   ** ** Du Hast **

 

When Flack and Hawkes walked back into the lab, they saw an angry Stella stalking through the halls with a determined look on her face.  She turned to look down the hall that led to the elevators, obviously looking for someone.  When she saw Flack and Hawkes, she reversed her direction and walked towards them.  “I don’t think Danny told us the whole truth about the fight him and Lindsay had,” she said bluntly.

 

Flack nodded grimly.  “He’s not.  The bartender at the bar said that Lindsay told him that she had just found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her.  Now unless she was dating someone else, that means that Danny was cheating on her,” he confirmed, rage simmering in his voice.

 

Stella looked shocked for a second until her temper snapped.  “That son of a bitch,” she seethed as she turned around and headed back into the lab, intent on finding Danny and tearing into him.

 

Hawkes looked at Flack.  “I do not want to be Danny right now,” he said somberly.

 

“Once she gets done with him, he’s all mine,” Flack growled as he began to follow Stella.  They saw her stop at the A/V lab and walk in to find Danny occupying her spot, but studying pictures of a different crime scene distractedly.  They had just approached the lab when they heard Stella yell, “Daniel Messer!  What the hell did you do?”

 

Danny looked up in bewilderment as Stella came to rest in front of him, indignation clearly written on her face.  “What?” he answered.

 

Stella sighed in exasperation.  “How could you?  I thought that you really cared for Lindsay; that you had given up on your playboy ways,” she raged.  “I guess you really can’t teach an old _dog_ new tricks,” she continued with scorn lacing her voice.

 

Danny felt the blood drain out of his face as he realized that somehow Stella had found out.  “Um…” he began trying to backpedal when Mac rushed into the room.

 

“The cabbie killer has Reed,” he snarled without preamble.  “We will not let him take someone else.  This ends now!”

 

Stella turned in surprise, pushing aside her anger for the moment as the gravity of what Mac had said made itself known.  “What happened?” she asked quietly.

 

Quickly, Mac explained the situation.  Once he was done, Adam leaned back from his computer and cleared his throat.  “Um, Mac?” he began hesitantly.  “Reed is posting from his blog right now.  It looks like he’s having a conversation with the killer.”

 

Danny watched as the team jumped into action, Adam trying to pinpoint the location of the computer that Reed was using while Mac, Hawkes and Stella began to research the trace evidence that Mac had collected from Reed’s backpack.  As he watched the seamless way in which the team worked, upset that he couldn’t take part in it, he felt someone staring at him and reluctantly turned around to see Flack gazing at him with disappointment and anger burning in his eyes.  He adverted his gaze and pretended to be interested in what Adam was doing, not ready to have a confrontation with his best friend.

 

The conversation flowed over him as his guilt finally reared its ugly head. _This is all my fault.  God!  I shouldn’t have slept with Rikki,_ he thought as the weight of his shame began to crush his soul.  Finally, when everyone was focused on finding Reed, he slipped out of the room, not realizing that Flack had noticed him leaving.

 

Once Danny was gone, Flack pulled Stella to the side.  “I’m going to confront Messer,” he said quietly.  Stella looked around the room in surprise; she hadn’t realized the younger man had left.  She nodded as she looked into Flack’s eyes and whispered, “Don’t kill him.”

 

Flack nodded and strode out of the room, looking around to see where Danny had gone.  After searching the lab and checking with reception to see if he had left the building, he finally went to the roof to find him staring across the Manhattan skyline morosely. 

 

Danny looked up as Flack walked on to the landing with him.  “Have they found the bastard?” he asked hoping that was the reason Flack had followed him.

 

Flack sighed, trying to remain calm.  “Not yet.  Why, Danny?  Did you really cheat on Lindsay?”  Danny didn’t reply which answered his question.  “You selfish, son of a bitch!” Flack exploded.  “I can’t believe that you could do that to her.”

 

Danny felt anger at the accusation; not anger at Flack, but anger at himself that he was trying to deny.  “She wasn’t around and Rikki was,” he rationalized.  “I was there for her throughout the entire mess with the trial.  Hell, I flew to fucking Montana for her, but could she be there for me?  Nope.”

 

Flack rolled his eyes, clenching his hands into fists as not to try to beat some sense into his friend.  “She was there for you, Messer. You were just too blind and selfish to see it.  I saw the number of times that she tried to call you, tried to get you to talk with her, even though she told me she had no idea how to help you through that!  She asked for advice from me, Mac, Stella and Hawkes!” he retorted, finally letting his anger show.  “You just closed your eyes and chose not to see what she was offering!”

 

Danny winced at both the anger and the accusation in Flack’s voice.  “She sure as hell didn’t know how to show it then,” he said, still trying to worm his way out of the situation.

 

Flack stepped back as he shook his head.  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Messer!  I know that you feel responsible for Ruben’s death.  I’m going to tell you again.  It was not your fault.  You had no idea he’d been shot and you made a decision based on what little information you had.  As for Lindsay?  This is your fault.  You are to blame for getting her into the situation where she was too drunk…”  Danny opened his mouth but at Flack’s glare closed it.  “Too drunk to think!  Because she found out that you had cheated on her, she drank—and I quote the bartender—damn near a bottle of Jack Daniels trying to forget you.  You are the reason that she is dead and I hope like hell you can come to terms with that,” he snarled as he turned around to walk back inside.

 

Danny watched his best friend walked away from him in disgust, a myriad of emotions battering him.  Finally, he snapped just as Flack reached the door.  “You know what, Flack.  Fuck you!” he yelled.

 

Flack turned around, finally losing control of his anger.  He closed the difference between them in three steps and then swung his right fist; solidly connecting with Danny’s left cheek.  “I don’t know you anymore, Messer.  Don’t talk to me,” he growled as Danny collapsed onto the gravel covering the roof.

 

Danny tasted blood in his mouth as Flack walked back into the building.  His anger finally ran out and the anguish at the turn of events caused a sob to catch in this throat.  _Oh, God.  Flack’s right.  What have I done?_

_\----------------------------------_

As Flack got back in the lab, rubbing his hand lightly to relieve the pain, he heard Adam say, “I’ve tracked the IP address to Midtown, but that’s the best that I can do since he’s pinging off several towers.”

 

Mac nodded as he studied the trace evidence and what Reed had been revealing in his blogs.    “Get me a list of any brewery’s in the midtown area.  This trace is of hops, which is used to make beer.”

 

Hawked had already typed in the search parameters.  “Here.  There’s only one and it’s been vacant for about a year.”

 

Flack quickly caught up with the investigation and reached for his cell phone.  “Let me get S.W.A.T. rolling.  This guy is dangerous and he could use Reed as a hostage.”

 

Mac nodded.  “They can meet us there.  I’m not giving him the time to kill Reed.”

 

With that, they all followed him out of the lab.

 

Stella attached herself to Flack and insisted on riding in the car with him.  Mac nodded as him and Hawkes settled into another car to begin a journey which took far too long in everyone’s eyes.  “So,” Stella said as she hooked her seatbelt.  “What happened with Danny?”  Her gaze lingered a bit on his reddened right hand.

 

Flack signed as he pulled out of the parking lot.  “He admitted to cheating on her with Rikki,” he said, disbelief lacing his voice.  “He said that it was because Lindsay wasn’t there for him like he was for her.”  He saw Stella’s look of bewilderment out of the corner of his eye.  “I know.  And I lost my temper and decked him.”

 

Stella shrugged.  “Good.  Maybe it will drive home exactly what he did wrong,” she stated.  “We’ve been babying him too much; that much is our fault.  One of us should have forced the issue sooner, when we saw that he was pulling away from everyone.”  She sighed, regret now etched on her beautiful face.  “Damn it.  Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”

 

They both lapsed into silence as they continued their drive to the abandoned brewery.  When they finally arrived, Flack was pleased since the S.W.A.T. team had also arrived.  Efficiently, he began to break up the group of both men and women to search the warehouse.

 

Grimly, he motioned Stella to follow him in, while Mac and Hawkes took another route.  He began checking the corridors, looking for signs of life.

 

Mac took point as him and Hawkes turned down another hall.  After making a couple more turns, he saw the killer walk out of the room, a body wrapped in a tarp slung over his shoulder.  “NYPD!  Freeze!” he yelled.

 

The killer looked up and threw the body on the ground before taking off in a run.  Mac shook his head, only pausing at the body long enough to confirm that it wasn’t Reed before following the killer’s path.

 

He followed him to the roof, meeting Flack up there just in enough time to see jump.  Together both of them ran to the side, just to see him sitting on the top of a truck, rolling out of the parking lot.

 

“Damn it!” Flack exclaimed.  “Bastard is getting away.”

 

Mac nodded.  “Let’s find Reed.”

 

The two men walked back into the building and towards the room where Mac saw the man coming from.  When they got there, then found both Stella and Hawkes on their knees, trying to stem to blood flow from Reed’s neck.  It had been slashed from ear to ear.

 

Mac fought down the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, while Flack began to call for an ambulance.

 

Hawkes looked up at his boss.  “He’s going to be okay, Mac.  Bastard didn’t hit either of the major veins.”  He looked down at Reed, who was conscious, albeit in a lot of pain.  “He’s not going to be able to talk for a while, but he’ll be fine.”

 

Mac just sighed in relief as the paramedics arrived and began to load him onto the stretcher.  “Hawkes, Stella, both of you stay here and process the scene.  See if we can possibly find out where this guy lives.  We need to arrest him.”

 

Both nodded and began to process the scene in silence as Flack and Mac walked back towards Flack’s car, intent on going to the hospital.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Danny had gotten back to the lab in enough time to see everyone else haring out of it.  _I guess they have a lead,_ he thought morosely.  He shook his head and his mind began to whirl in circles, going over everything that had happened since Ruben had died. 

 

Slowly he made his way out of the lab and somehow ended up at his apartment, the evidence of Lindsay’s wrath shooting lances pain through his heart.  He resumed his seat on the couch that had been abandoned when Flack had brought him the terrible news and held his head in his hands.

 

His conscious chose that moment to come back and berate him for his actions.  _Oh God.  I…I can’t believe the mess I’ve made of this.  Flack was right.  She was trying to be there for me—all of them were, but I insisted on being a selfish bastard and pushed everyone away._   He thought back, really thought back to what had happened the day that Ruben had died and he knew that he would always react the same way.  Ruben hadn’t looked hurt and there was no way that he could have known what had happened.  He had thought of his safety and sent him home, secure in his knowledge that it was the right thing to do.

 

This realization brought him to his current situation.  _I’ve fucked every good thing up in my life, why shouldn’t this be any different?_ The guilt, which had been nibbling at him all day, finally came upon him in full force and he understood, without a shadow of a doubt, that he alone was responsible for Lindsay’s death.  He had caused her enough heartache to make her go out and drink beyond her limits and then in that inebriated state, she had allowed herself to be put into a cab.  He had effectively signed her death warrant.

 

He began to shake as the full culpability of what he had done rested on his shoulders, gripping him in a dark pit of despair that he knew he deserved.  Shaking, he began to clean, to try to take his mind off of his actions, but knew that his hope was unfounded and the actually of what he had done would continue to crush him and spared a tiny thought, _I don’t deserve to live._

 

\----------------------------------

 

Mac set his jaw as him and Flack left the hospital, hopefully with enough information to track down the killer’s home.  As they got back into Flack’s car, Mac looked at the detective.  “So, what is going on with you, Stella, Hawkes and Danny?”

 

Flack looked at him, silently debating on whether or not to tell him what he knew.   Finally he sighed.  “Bartender at _Cactus_ told me why Lindsay and Danny had their blowout.  Turns out that Danny cheated on her.”

 

Mac sucked in a breath.  “I’m going to kill him.  I told him that he’d better not let the relationship effect work in any way, shape or form,” Mac said with anger filling his voice.

 

Flack shook his head.  “I laid into him pretty hard, Mac.  Give him some time to think and I think he will come around.”  Mac nodded grudgingly, knowing that he didn’t have time to deal with the younger man just yet.

 

Once they had arrived at the crime lab, they began to lay out the story with Stella and Hawkes, who were both grinning.

 

Stella nodded in excitement as she put the clues together in her head.  “A fire hose.  It was a worn out fire hose that delivered the carbon monoxide to the bad seat.”

 

Mac nodded.  “Washington Heights.  There’s an abandoned fire house there,” he said with excitement filling his voice as he turned to run out of the lab. 

 

An hour later, they were in front of the building strapping on their protective vests.  Mac and Flack took point and when they entered the building, they saw the killer sitting there on his knees as if in worship.

 

The killer looked up to Mac and smiled.  “None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed,” he stated calmly.

 

Mac shook his head as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.  “But shall surely be put to death,” he finished.  “Leviticus 27:29. L2729.”

 

The man sat there, uncompromising in what he believed to be the truth, but did not struggle when Flack slapped the handcuffs on him.

 

As they walked the mentally unstable man to a squad car, both heard the radio go off.  _“Residents reporting shots fired at…”_   Both men looked at each other as the dispatcher read a familiar address and panic settled into their hearts. 

 

“Danny!” they yelled together before leaping into a car and peeling out of their parking spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So please don’t kill me for the cliffhanger! Or you’ll never get the final chapter! Also, in regards to the chapter title, I thought about which version of the song I wanted to use and decided that both really applied. So from the German version: The refrain ("Willst du, bis der Tod euch scheidet, treu ihr sein für alle Tage?") translates to "Will you, until Death separates you, be faithful to her forever?" Instead of answering with "ja" ("yes"), the singer says "nein" ("no"), finally breaking his silence earlier in the song: "Du hast mich gefragt, und ich hab nichts gesagt", which translates to "You asked me, and I said nothing." In the English version, it is actually Du Hasst, which translates into “You hate.” I think both were applicable! All the information about the song was found in Wikipedia, so go check it out. It’s very interesting.


	6. The Memory Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : Okay. So this is NOT a happy story, so if you are looking for DL fluff, you might want to go check out my other stories, Inflaming the Senses or Sadeness. I don’t own the song title, that belongs to Metallica. Happy reading!

** Chapter 6.  The Memory Remains **

 

In a grim silence, Flack and Mac sped towards Danny’s apartment, each lost in their own thoughts.  Flack was trying his hardest not to think back to how harshly he had spoken to Danny.  He did believe that he told him the truth, but his conscious told him that he probably could have handled the encounter better.

 

On the other hand, Mac was preparing himself for the worst.  He knew how emotional Danny could be and was aware that this might be the last thing needed to throw the young man over the edge of sanity.

 

Finally, they screeched to a halt in front of the building and quickly made their way up to his floor.  When they stepped into the hallway, they noticed Rikki standing in front of Danny’s doorway, a look of sheer terror on her face.  “Detective Flack!” she called out, her fear evident in her voice.  “I heard a shot and Danny’s not answering.”

 

Flack nodded his understanding, not trusting himself to speak to the woman that was part of the downfall of two good friends.  He exchanged a look with Mac, who motioned for Rikki to stay back, and then Flack kicked the door inward.  Mac entered first, his gun drawn in case there was an intruder in the apartment.  Flack entered afterwards and gasped in shock at the state of the apartment.

 

Mac looked at him with his brow furrowed.  “What?” he asked, not seeing anything that was out of place.

 

“When Danny and I left, this place looked like a tornado had blown through,” he said grimly.  “I just can’t believe that he came home and cleaned.”

 

Mac got a stern look on his face as several possibilities came to mind, none of them pleasant, but just motioned for Flack to proceed to the bedroom.  He consciously made the decision to go in first and was glad he had.  Lying in the center of the room, in a pool of blood, was Danny.  Even as his heart seemed to break in half, part of his mind instantly recognized from the position of the body, the blood spatter and Danny’s service pistol lying next to him that this was more than likely as suicide. 

 

Flack peered over Mac’s shoulder and felt his face blanch in horror.  “Oh, god,” he said, his voice hoarse with shock.

 

Mac turned around, tears in his eyes.  “We need to secure the scene Flack, and call for a different team to process since we are too emotionally involved,” he managed to say through the knot lodged in his throat. 

 

Flack nodded meekly, feeling numb.  As they exited the apartment, the look on their faces was enough to tell Rikki what they had discovered.  She broke down into tears and fled to the safety of her apartment.  They saw a couple of uniforms walking towards the door, followed by Stella and Hawkes, who had looks of disbelief on their faces.

 

Stella took one look at Mac’s face and knew that Danny was dead.  She blinked her eyes rapidly and covered her mouth with her hand.  Mac looked at his team before turning to the uniforms.  “No one is to go in this apartment until the other crime scene team gets here.  Is that understood?” he said forcefully.  The two men nodded, their faces serious.

 

Mac motioned to the rest of the team to follow him.  Once they were far enough away as to not be overheard, Stella asked, “Was it the cabbie killer?”

 

Mac shook his head, eyes glistening with tears.  “No, from what I saw he committed suicide.”

 

The team gasped and Flack’s face grew even paler.  “Jesus.  This is all my fault!  I confronted him about cheating on Lindsay.  Told him that it was all his fault that she was dead and I never wanted to talk to him again,” he revealed, his voice filled with regret.

 

Mac looked at him as he shook his head.  “It’s not your fault, Don.  If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.  I knew that he wasn’t dealing with Ruben’s death and I should have made sure that he saw a grief counselor.  Damn it!  Because I didn’t, we lost two good members of this team.”

 

Stella put her hand on his arm softly.  “It’s no one’s fault, Mac.  We all knew that he wasn’t dealing with it well, but it was his decision to cheat.  Unless you made that particular choice for him, you can’t be blamed,” she said trying to hold back her tears of anguish.

 

They all looked at each other before nodding reluctantly, knowing that each one of them would bear the guilt of Danny and Lindsay’s deaths on their souls for eternity.

 

\----------------------------------

 

The morning of the joint memorial service dawned cloudy and gray, as if the heavens themselves were mourning the loss of the two tragic lovers.  Flack thought about it with irony as he put on his dress uniform.  _It’s like they were Romeo and Juliet, destined to forever live in tragedy._   He solemnly withdrew a bit of black tape, to perform the duty that he hated the most.  Placing a strip of it on top of his badge, to signal the loss of a colleague, for the other CSI team had ruled Danny’s death an accident that happened while he cleaned his gun.  He knew in his heart that it wasn’t true, but that was not for him to judge.  Danny would have to face his actions to a higher power; one in which both Danny and Flack’s chosen religion said was a mortal sin and condemned his soul to hell. 

 

Flack didn’t pray often, but he did then, praying with every fiber of his being that the powers that controlled the universe understood that one mere mortal man could not deal with the tragedy which was infused in his life.  He swallowed a lump in his throat as he finished placing the tape over the cold metal.

 

Grimly, he picked up his cap and reluctantly made his way to the memorial.

 

Several hours later, he was standing beside the gravesite of his best friend, tears of regret and guilt filling his eyes, but he did not allow them to fall.  He had to be strong.  Mac was standing next to him, his jaw locked in position and he kept swallowing hard.  Stella was openly weeping as Hawkes wrapped his arm around her in comfort, his own throat closed with tears.  Flack couldn’t believe that they were burying Danny today. 

 

Lindsay’s family had requested that she be buried in Montana, in the family cemetery and no one denied them that right, so he would only have to watch as one shiny black coffin was lowered into the ground, instead of two.  As the priest read the passages of the bible, Flack’s ears closed.  _Oh, God.  Please forgive me for failing him in his time of need.  When he needed me most, I allowed my anger to overcome by judgment.  While this may have partially been his fault, we all failed him,_ he thought with the ever present guilt in his chest.

 

His lieutenant had mandated that he take at least a week off after the case was closed, as had Mac with his team.  They all needed time to grieve.  He  knew that policies were going into place now that if someone lost someone close to them, they were required to go to the department psychologist to get cleared for work before going back.  In his heart, he knew that it wasn’t near enough to make up for the failure of those closest to the pair.

 

He stoically stood through the twenty-one gun salute, each shot ricocheting down his soul and he prayed for the service to end before he dissolved into tears.  Finally, it was over and as a group Flack, Mac, Stella, Hawkes and Adam turned to head to a bar to get drunk and pay their respects to Danny and Lindsay.

 

Once they had arrived, they took the table that they had reserved and ordered a couple of pitchers of beer.  When the waitress brought them over, she was also carrying a white envelope.  “We received this in the mail yesterday and Ray knew that it was for you,” she said with tears in her eyes.

 

Mac took the envelope that had all of their names scrawled across it in Danny’s untidy handwriting.  With hands shaking, he opened it and began to read. 

 

_“Dear Mac, Stella, Don, Hawkes and Adam,_

_I sit here in my clean apartment, the guilt of what I caused finally penetrating my disbelief and horror. I know what I’m about to do is a mortal sin and I am condemning my soul to hell, but it’s the only thing that I can do to make amends.  Let me say now, I am so sorry for what I put you guys through.  I wanted to tell you some things, things that I always left unsaid, but needed to say._

_Mac, you were more of a father to me than my own Pop.  You took me under your wing, when everyone said that you shouldn’t give me a chance, and allowed me to grow.  Thank you._

_Stella, you were the big sister that I never had and always wanted.  I can’t tell you how many times that I wanted to say that, but face it, you can be very formidable when you choose!_

_Hawkes, you are such an amazing investigator, always wanting to get down to the truth, no matter what the price.  Keep to that and you will be fine._

_Adam, you have overcome so many obstacles that I can only guess at, but you’ve never lost your faith.  I wish I could have that kind of strength in me.  Don’t underestimate yourself._

_Finally, Flack, you were my best friend.  My confidant, the one person who never sugar coated the truth for me.  Don’t blame yourself for this.  You did what you always did; you told me the hard truth that I needed to hear._

_I’m so sorry for what I’ve done, but I hope that you each remember the good times._

_Love always,_

_Danny.”_

There wasn’t a dry eye at the table as Mac finished reading, each knowing that a little part of them had been lost with the deaths of the star-crossed lovers, but all they could do was move on and rely on each other’s strength.  Flack filled his mug first.  “To Lindsay and Danny.  May they be at peace now.”

 

The others raised their mugs and repeated the toast and prayer, vowing not to forget the hard lessons that they had learned.

 

_Fini._

 


End file.
